[ keith is cooperating, but the surly look on his face makes it obvious enough that this is extremely liable to change.

but okay. his body refuses to move in any direction other than the one clearly being outlined here, and so he stomps towards deck one. dressed in futuristic red space armor, and for some reason inexplicably holding onto a white pacifier, keith looks obviously out of place. in fact, he's not even looking or paying attention as their apparent host speaks, instead peering this way and that like he expects to find a camera rolling somewhere in the distance or hear a laugh track play in the background.

the second he's able to move freely again, keith turns this way and that, before launching the pacifier as hard as he can into the sky with a frustrated growl. ]

I don't have time for another round of Garfle Warfle Snick, Bob. Get me out of here!

[ the pacifier lands back on the deck, and this time keith gives it a hefty kick off the side of the cruiser ... only for it to ricochet off an invisible barrier and smacks you, an innocent by passer. keith stares for a moment, then: ]

Uh... wasn't expecting that to happen.

[ which begs the question, what the heck was he expecting to happen anyway.... ]

[ there has to be a goddamn way off the ship. there's important shit going on back in his reality and this is all very weird and cute, but keith is on a mission. muttering to himself, he starts at deck zero and finds himself pushing through the doors into the morgue. ]

What skeletons are they hiding down here....

[ and whereas most would do the sensible thing and leave feeling unsettled, keith just walks right on in and starts trying to find whatever records he can. when that search gets him fuck all, he starts opening up one of the morgue lockers. stop him? encourage this? profit. ]

[ for anyone who happens to be passing through the cabin area, you might just happen to hear the sound of a door slamming shut as keith scrambles to get into the hallway with just a towel wrapped around his hips to preserve his modesty and brandishing a knife. there are still soap suds in his mullet hair as he rounds on whoever happens to be passing through the area. ]

Is your bathroom fucking haunted?

[ feel free to hit me up with anything else! pm this journal or contact me @ partyraven! ]